And cleaned is now a huge mess thanks to my return to home and hearth. The living room is strewn with the the first installment of my books, and clothes I can't wear for two more months. In case you wondered it is cold enough for me to want to sleep in the hearth like Cinderella or somebody's cat.
On Christmas eve the house was invaded by a pair of very cute Mormons. The parents who always feel sorry for children far away from home were stumped because they could not drink wine, tea or coffee. Anyway, the Mormons asked if we were thankful for anything and the rest of us immediately felt like we were on a chat show with low production values.
Six days later I am sitting in Dilli and drinking tea. From where I am sitting I can see a whole lot of things (and I mean things) that I can be momentarily grateful for. Socks being on top of the list. Also hot tea and Shrewsbury biscuits. Also the John Updike Al_lude insisted I buy: Bech: the Book. Giggle.
And a few dozen books Bent gave me over the years. And the Joan Aiken that Bottle-imp gave me this Christmas.
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